


hell is still worthwhile, if you just smile

by LunarCallisto



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Demons, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Singing, Slow Dancing, Swing Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarCallisto/pseuds/LunarCallisto
Summary: The Princess of Hell is feeling down in the dumps upon receiving a disappointing message from her parents; her cries draw the attention of one bored Radio Demon...
Relationships: Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor/Charlie Magne, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 28
Kudos: 589





	hell is still worthwhile, if you just smile

**Author's Note:**

> All I know of this cartoon is that single pilot on youtube, along with whatever facts I looked up on the character wikis to write this fic. And while it's not exactly my usual taste, the colors, and most of the characters grabbed my attention. I also loved the musicals! 
> 
> Smile by Jimmy Durante (or nat king cole) is my inspo song, also my need to see Charlie and Alastor sing together~

Weeping, wailing, sobbing, and screaming were not at all unheard of; especially in the bowels of Hell's fieriest pits. The flea bottom towns, the cesspool cities with its wicked bare-backing demons. The cacophony of unholy noises was in fact a beautiful orchestra to the fine hearing of one dapper radio demon.

And he for sure, wasn’t the only one that tuned in to take pleasure in the sounds of despair.

But in this exuberant yet shallow establishment that’s meant to be a place of ‘redemption’ for Hell's damned souls—truly the biggest ironic joke he’s ever decided to be a part of—the radio demon heard what can be described as soft gasping interrupted by hiccups in between.

Not exactly the hysterical crying he’s used to, but the sounds drew him closer to the source nonetheless. He was itching for some entertainment anyway. He followed the muffled sniffles all the way to the ninth floor, where his keen ears picked up feminine voices behind a closed door at the very far end of the hallway. The radio demon vanished, then at once stood before the door. Appearing like a tall red silhouette with glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth under the dim lighting. His plastered grin grew ever more jubilant. 

He placed his hands behind his back, leaning down to peer through the keyhole.

There on a freshly linen made-bed, sat the princess of Hell, with one of those communication devices he never bothered learning to use in hand. Her eyes were as pink and puffy as the blush patterns on her cheeks, and there were tears running down her doll like face as she peered at the glowing screen.

That gloomy demoness, the one she called _Vaggie_, dabbed at the princess’s round cheeks with a handkerchief, muttering small words of consolation.

“It’ll be alright, Charlie.” Vaggie placed the handkerchief to the princess’s nose and instructed her to blow, Charlie did just that with a loud honking sound. Vaggie shook her head and tossed the soiled handkerchief into the waste bin by the bedside.

“I just don’t get why’d they’d bail on you like that.”

Charlie sniffled, “Oh, Vaggie—they didn’t _bail_ on me… They—they’re just busy is all.”

Though the princess tried to be reassuring, her nasally voice, sniffling and wringing hands contradicted, _well_, everything in that statement. Her two mini demon butlers produced another box of tissues from thin air, which Charlie snatched, taking another tissue to wipe away the excess snot leaking from her nose.

“I just—I just wish they could’ve at least told me in person instead of sending a message…” Charlie sighed. “At least a phone call… Something, y’know?” She dropped her hands down to her lap, fangs chewing at the bottom of her lip. “My mom hasn’t been answering lately… I’m not worried for her, I know she’s _busy_. But… I do miss her… _and dad_…”

The princess squeezed her eyes shut as if she were in pain, bowing her head. “Dad still thinks this whole thing is pointless.”

“Aw Charlie.” Vaggie slid next to the princess, enveloping her in a hug, Charlie rested her head against the smaller demoness’s shoulder. Vaggie affectionately patted Charlie’s hair, raking her fingers through the fine blonde locks. Eventually the princess’s sobs quieted down, until only the soft sniffling could be heard. One of her little pet demon butlers nuzzled her leg, attempting to comfort his master.

“… Hey, are you hungry?” Vaggie hummed, “Maybe I can make you something to eat? Or how about ordering out? Honestly I think it’d be a good idea if you got away from the hotel for a while—”

“Oh no!” Immediately the princess wretched herself free from Vaggie’s hold, though upon seeing Vaggie’s hurt expression, she drew herself back in, smiling sheepishly as she put a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder. “Ah—I appreciate the thought Vags, but I don’t really have an appetite right now. And I can’t just abandon my duties!”

“_What_ duties, Charlie?” Vaggie sighed. “It’s been a week and there haven’t been any other demons who checked into the hotel besides Angel,” Vaggie grumbled beneath her breath, _“can’t really count that pendejo sucio radio demon either.” _

“Alastor is a business partner, Vags. And you know we’re still just opening!” Charlie wiped under her eye with a finger while sniffing. “I’m sure that demons who crave redemption will start flocking to Happy Hotel once we’ve spruced up the place. Niffty and Husk have been a huge help too—Er _sort of_.” Charlie shrugged as she added the last part, noticing Vaggie’s dramatic eye-roll.

True, Husk and Niffty were the radio demons ol’ pals—Or servants—not that he would ever admit that to them, not without an audience at least. They haven’t exactly been able to be put to _real_ labor, considering nobody has walked through the doors of this hotel since he arrived. He might have to _pull_ a couple of strings to change that as well.

Vaggie scoffed, as if she read the radio demon’s mind—not that she ever could. “Well your _business partner _changed the name of the hotel a week ago, have you seen the sign? It says _Hazbin, _as in has been? He’s making a fool of us Charlie.”

Charlie who had been dabbing at her eyes with a tissue blew out air exasperatedly. “Ah—right… I’ll talk with him about that later.”

“Fine.” Vaggie stood from the bed, though her gaze softened when she locked eyes with the princess.

“Are you… _sure_ you’re not hungry? How about thirsty?”

Charlie shook her head. “I’m alright now, really.” Then just to prove herself she slapped her cheeks a couple times, and with the barest amount of effort smiled at the younger demoness.

Though it was so forced, Vaggie couldn’t help but sigh. “Well… if you say so. Sleep tight’ hon. I’m sure your mom will get back to you soon.”

“Thanks, Vags.”

Vaggie leaned down and pecked the princess on her forehead before turning to go. The moment she twisted the knob, the radio demon disappeared. He watched from the shadows as Charlie's dear friend made her way out the suite, and down the winding hallways until he couldn’t see her long swaying hair anymore as she descended the staircase.

Alastor than leered at the door that contained the princess of hell, his grin stretched further.

* * *

That’s all it was. Just words. A few simple words. Only it wasn’t simple. Because it was from her parents; or rather her mom who was now also speaking for her dad—why couldn’t he contact her himself? His own daughter?

_I miss them. _

Charlie fell back against the bed with a huff, clutching the hellphone to her chest, she threw an arm over her eyes.

_I’m trying to save the damned souls of Hell from being permanently exterminated by angels… Is it so much to ask that I want my parents by my side too?_

Maybe it was.

Charlie sighed. Before she started sniffling again.

_Ugh… I might have a cold. Can full demons even get colds? _

It was pleasantly quiet, and Charlie might’ve drifted off to sleep—until Razzle and Dazzle started making small noises at her feet. She shifted into a sitting position, staring at her little ram butlers with one eyebrow raised. They don’t speak words like regular demons do, but rather convey their communication through small “Oh’s” and “Ah’s”.

They seemed to be going into a frantic state though because their already large eyes were going wide.

“Hey—hey guys, calm down. What’s wrong?”

Both little demons bounded over to the door, staring up at it with caution. The second Charlie set her yellow eyes at the door—the radio demon himself materialized right in front of her face, startling the princess so much she jumped out the bed but got tangled in the sheets which sent her face planting onto the floor.

“GAH!”

“Charlie, my gal!”

Charlie lifted her head, blinking a couple dozen times, she rubbed at her eyes fiercely. “Eh—wha?”

A stand mic was suddenly shoved in her face. “Grab a hold o’ me princess!” The mic spoke with a chipper buzz. Charlie groaned, but did as she was told—and was immediately yanked to her feet. The sudden motion had her seeing stars for a couple seconds, until her vision cleared and their towering before her was the radio demon Alastor, all sharp teeth and red glowing eyes.

Charlie frowned.

Alastor was positively radiant with demonic glee. “Why the long face, Dear?” He crooned, his old-timey radio voice crackling with energy.

“Huh?”

“You look under the weather! Like a poor little orphan awaitin’ his ma and pops only to be curved.”

Charlie shook her head, “What. No! It—that’s none of _your _concern… It’s something personal, that’s all.”

Alastor’s red irises flickered to the hellphone she held in her hands; which she promptly hid behind her back, raising her chin defiantly.

“Family matters I presume?”

“Yup!”

“Well,” the radio demon stepped forward, twirling his mic-stand, “that’s no-good reason to start wearin’ a frown! Quite a _pitiful _reason actually!”

Charlie pouted, and her eyes grew a bit watery. She shouldn’t let this demon get to her—after all he got his kicks from tormenting others and broadcasting the carnage across the pentagram. It wouldn’t be very royal of her too start crying in front hell’s most charismatic demon either.

She straightened her spine and was prepared to tell Alastor to get the seven hells out of her room when he suddenly grabbed her face in his clawed hands. His fingers were long, dark and spindly, mushing her cheeks together, though he was uncharacteristically careful of his claws getting too close to her eyes.

Charlie peered up at Alastor, blinking owlishly. Behind him her little butlers began to huff and puff, stomping their little hoofs, they looked to be growing in size. Charlie held a hand out to placate them—less the entire hotel be driven to ruins.

“A princess shouldn’t be frownin’ because of trivial things, let’s see a smile, doll!” 

Charlie wasn’t sure about Alastor’s use of nicknames—they all sounded old fashioned, but she was sure he never referred to her as ‘Doll’ before. It sounded too intimate; it made her innards twist uncomfortably. Alastor only beamed down at her, cocking his head.

Charlie inwardly sighed, giving this bothersome demon what he wants was the only way to make him go away. She attempted to smile, though it proved to be quite difficult, and her face—still being mushed by Alastor’s large hands—made it look like she was grimacing.

The radio demon chuckled, static filling the air, “What an ugly sight! It’s glorious!”

Charlie huffed, the sclera of her eyes reddening along with small horns beginning to protrude from beneath her voluminous hair. She pulled herself free from his claws, though Alastor had already loosened his hold on her.

“Did you _really_ come here just to troll me?” Charlie threw her phone onto the bed, glaring at the tall red demon from over her shoulder.

Alastor’s eyes twinkled maddingly, _“Maybe.”_

“Well, quit it! I’d like to be left alone… So, get hell out of my room… Please!”

Her need to be overly polite overrode her want to be as angered with him as possible. That got a few laugh-tracks out of the radio demon as well.

He materialized his mic-stand, using it as a cane to lean on, “Very well. I will leave you to your pitiful reminiscin’… If!”

Charlie slapped her forehead, “_No_… No if!”

His grin widened, “If… you give me a genuine smile!” 

“I’m not really in the mood right no—_Ah!_”

Alastor used his mic-stand to usher her forth until she was stumbling into his arms, where he promptly grabbed a hold of her wrist, only to twirl her around like a prim ballerina. As she spun, the dreary lighting of the hotel suite became splashed in bright neon. Purples, pinks, blues and aquamarines all swirling into a hot and cool striped rainbow. The tiled floors beneath her feet became smooth polished wood, and bright strobe lights burst through the roof, blinding her vision.

Alastor halted her spinning as the scene became a misty jazz stage, Charlie swayed, about ready to be sick.

“Well, if you’re not in the mood. It is my responsibility as a host to keep you entertained!”

“Wha—”

_“Smile!” _The radio demon snapped his fingers; Charlie raised a brow before looking down to see herself wearing a boat neck-lined evening dress, the sleeves puffy around the shoulders before tapering around her elbow, her hands were covered in silk gloves and her thick blonde hair fixed itself into a short bob that curled around her ears. Charlie fingered at the expensive material before she was pulled into another wide twirling arc by Alastor, who himself wore a three-piece tuxedo and white gloves.

This vision was much classier than the first one had been. Her little ram butlers even wore old-fashioned tuxedos of their own, with tall top hats that practically obscured their vision.

_“Liiiii-ight up your face with gladnee-esss!”_

“Now hold on a sec—”

_“Hiii-ide every trace of sadnee-ess,”_ the radio demon swept her off her feet momentarily, _“Although a tee-aar maybe evee-er so nee-ar,”_

_“Thaa-at’s the tiii-ime you muu-ust keep tryin’,” _he held her at arms-length, swinging her around and around.

_“Smile! Whaa-at’s the use of cryin’,” _

Charlie flushed as she was brought in close to his chest before he spun her elegantly on her heel, “H-hey, I was not crying!”

_ “You’ll find that hell is still worthwhiii-ile,”_

“Alastor!”

_ “if you juu-ust—”_

She was giggling now.

_ “Smii-ile!” _

Shadow figures picked up the abandoned instruments that lay about the stage, strumming the melancholic yet catchy tune to match the buzzing tempo of Alastor’s radio voice.

“Let’s hear a lick from you canary!” He pushed Charlie to the front of the stage, shoving his stand-mic to her face. Charlie squinted under the bright lights, but she was grinning wide, her fangs on display. She shimmied, throwing her arms out, “_If you smii-ile, through you’re feea-ar and sorroo-ow—"_

She stomped her heeled feet to the beat, _“Smii-ile! Ann-nd maa-aybe tomorrow, you’ll see the light shining through—”_

_“For yoo-uu!” _The princess was swept away by the snazzy rhythm, she snapped her fingers, as the radio demon added his chipper voice to hers. He leaned down, and grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around to face him, he dug his claws into her dress, but she didn’t feel any pain, to caught up in the euphoria of performing.

_“Smii-ile! What’s the use of crying—” _They grinned and harmonized, Charlie swung her arms and stomped her feet as he did the same. 

_“I’ll find that hell is still worthwhiii-ile,”_

_ “if I—"_

_“If yoo-uu—!” _

_“Juu-ust smiii-ile!” _

Then she was full blown laughing as Alastor forcibly pulled her to him, dipping her to the ground in the grand ending sequence. Her little ram butlers cheered along with Alastor’s shadow-puppet audience. It felt amazing to sing again after the disaster that was the interview. She closed her eyes and let the applause wash over her.

The disappointing message from her parents was pushed far back into the dark recesses of her mind—and the only thing she allowed herself to feel in this moment was happiness.

Naturally, she was smiling as Alastor pulled her up.

“Feelin’ better now, princess?” He cocked his head wearing a crafty smirk rather than his usual maniacal grin.

Charlie opened her eyes—and just like that, she was back in her suite. The stage, the instruments, the neon lights, the lovely evening gown, all gone. She breathed in the familiar musty air of the hotel. She saw red for a moment before a clawed hand waved in her face. “Charlie, dear?”

She blinked, then craned her neck to peer up at Alastor who looked rather gleeful. Then she realized one of her hands was still clasped in another, much larger one. Charlie nervously chuckled, “You’re—uh, still holding my hand.”

The radio demon froze, going creepily still as a stone statue, his red glowing eyes shrunk into small radio dials. It spooked Charlie—more so than he usually did. But gradually he let her go.

“Ahem.” He looked away, face back to his regular grinning mask as he fiddled with his monocle. Charlie didn’t want to voice this—but this very powerful and charismatic demon of Hell looked to be, _well_, embarrassed. One would even daresay, flustered.

It was oddly endearing.

Charlie scratched the back of her head, and he stepped away from her as if warding off any attempts to touch him. Not that Charlie would try—but she could already feel an awkward tension rising.

_Uh-Oh. _

“Welp!” Charlie clapped her hands together. “You… Got your smile_, I guess_—So you can leave now!” Charlie ushered him to the door, being careful not to graze her hands on his overcoat. The radio demon allowed himself to be herded outside by the princess. Once he was in the hallway, Charlie yelped, “Okay, thanks. Bye!” before slamming the door at his back.

Charlie leaned against the door with a huff, rubbing at her temple. Her little ram butlers came bounding up to her. “Hey guys?” Charlie gestured to the door, “You guys saw that… right?”

Her demon butlers only answered with curious head tilts.

In the hallway Alastor stood, just outside the princess’s suite, peering down at his monstrous hand. The same hand that refused to let her go when it was time to call off the show. He clenched it into a fist, and with his other hand materialized his stand mic and began trotting down the long hallway, whistling a chipper tune.

Things will be getting interesting in this hotel real soon, he was sure of it.


End file.
